Experemental Mode of Writing

A man on the edge of the ocean waits to tell his mother goodbye, but an old friend...
Slippery was the white which whashed upon the grains
like salt too heavy to dissolve.
It reminded him of a gritty sort of soup,
or a sugarjar in the m i l k.
Drifting on a child's sail, he lost his footing.
No more was the wooden green floating
nor the heavy salt slurping,
for now the children where laughing,
like roadways of dying.
Trees drinking applejuice, with
icecubes
or cherries that can't see.
So our eyes lie on the sidewalk, while our feet dangle
in
    the
            sky was partly cloudy with no chance or rain,
only the occasional mist in droplet form,
taken twice a day and once before evenings
wherein the lady rocked on a needle chair
sipping her tea from accross the bay
where all the mothers ask their children
"What will you say today?"
and all the children answer
once in a while
when the sky is a little less wet
-ed by the tears of the girl who wasn't asked
until the lady in the needle chair
finished her tea
and asked me
"What will you say today?"
The man was shaken from his thoughts by a cold
touch
of wind upon his skin. Paper fluttered.
Longer legs than a treetrunk slipped like a
tiger
,a madman on his day off,
coming through the brush with - an - U m b r e l l a
in - his - hand.
"How's the reflection shifting today old chap?"
Murrmer murm, murmer mermur murmer Mermering
mermer muremir mermir mirmure mirmur merm,
murmur thus "Said the waiting man."
"Is That So!?" Cackled the floor planks,
"Well I think it's fine for a drownin'!"
He smiled warmly as he might,
"Th'flection's shimmered by a cold wind.
I sha'n't stay under so long's to see."
The treetrunk of a tiger dropped his paw
colder still
on the back of his neck.
"December is coming, count with me."
Ten they said together.
Thus several seconds passed away
while a whispering blade of grass learned to play flute.
"Did you see the ircksome lad?"
"Nay, buta fine'n on t'porch.
Delivered me mail twice a days-back."
A moments hesitation
putting on face,
"Well that's grand! Whatcha get fur jingles?"
"Two pence anna 'alf."
"Ah! Now I gotta one fur twenty!
Mind yur blather's twice tha' in a forenights kelp."
He lowered his eyes.
"Whatta de-matter?"
"M-m-m."
"Spit yer neh-ah-uhhh..."
"My own matters."
He stood a little resolved and half dizzied as the grass
finally learned D minor.
The water lapped upon green wood
and spires of splinters spat salty spittle
uppon grey trousers.
"So be it."
They stood in silence.
The sun argued with the moon as to weather,
and whether the stars could stay.
The shore insisted that they must go home,
for they where turning purple it supper's air.
"She was on the line." Spoke he finally.
"Yeah, and we all wher-
"NO... my line."
'''
"Ah. Go on mah friend. Go on."
"There was the we, standin'
and she said to me,
'What will you say today?'
and so it was..."
and so it was
he lost his footonthe cloud again,
that all I finally knew
all the others accross the bay had no socks
save for the red pear in the heavens,
'tween the East and South mountains
where it rose e'vry Saturday morning from the East
and settled down for a nap every night in the West
so that we could sleep despite its spiteless radiance...
"What's the point! Ah was there."
,,¡ʇɐds spǝǝs ǝɥʇ puıɯ,,
The crooked cane quivered.
Tiger trunks eyelids like a tongue barely pushed
or a nostril breathed through
or a pin in, but not through, the evening news
showed us that this was not the man's usual.
(Indeed, he preferred jam over jelly.)
His eyes
            turned
                down
cast    to    the    ground.
                                                "Sorry"
"Don't ye ' me ya! Take a trike fer breakin'!"
Gazing like an english muffin,
a seagull in the rain,
he was an unshaking figure silhouetted against
purple sea.
"I  await  her."
The cruel one grinned.
"Come now, you wait in vein on'sploaded veins!"
    Veins (indeed).
"Do ya really think there's any time to be gained
on a salted plane
in the middle of a winter's hour?"
Slippery was the white which washed upon the grains
like salt to heavy to dissolve.
He lifted his eyes,
"Yes."